Story of a Paladin

No surely its not the hardmode dungeon... Because there are mages in the prehardmode one too, and if they have only just been released then I can't be...

We still don't have cursed skulls either.
 
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The skeletons have continued to move around the place, now more active than ever, still scratching the walls, and now roaring like an underworld battalion as they march and crackle. This is now more than ever, a terrible place.

So was the current scenario when a man entered this dark vault.
I somehow sensed it. I knew someone was here, and I went up to investigate quick as a flash. I ran. For a second, there was an adventurer in front of me, a young human, dark-haired, without striking clothes, and an ornamented sword. The next second, an obscured necromancer, in a horrifying move, cast a beam that pierced the boy from side to side. He died, and left his backpack. I shooed the caster away, and every other moving pile of bones approaching, in a burst of rage with a mad shout and fling of a hammer, as I hurried to take care of the visitor. I saw no signs of life, and instead of becoming more enraged and maddened, I just sighed, and stayed there.

The marching dead that still see me as their own kept coming closer, so I just left, going through them as if they were nothing, with resignation in my face, taking the backpack and sword with me. Again I enclosed myself in the deepest corridors that are my home, where no one can come.

A few basic things were inside the backpack. A notepad, fresh food and water which I consumed without satisfaction, a pencil case, a sketchbook, useless gadgets… I was kept entertained.
The notepad contained a language which I didn’t understand.

I wonder if the youngster descried me. Would he had been scared by my monster-like appearance? Maybe I should wear a helmet the next occasion. My armor looks much dirtier and rustier, now that I think about it. That’s what an eternity inside here does to even the holiest magic objects. /





I’ve started drawing ever since, with the items the visitor brought.

Sure, a graphite pencil is not nearly as classy as ink. But I believe I liked to draw a lot when alive. And the inclusion of a rubber tip at one end helps with editing. A pencil is much more fit for sketching and drawing, and I enjoy it much more than wasting ink for the same purpose.

I have drawn a few things I’ve seen in this place. The sketchbook facilitates my works’ ordering immensely: Parchments are nice, and classic of my land, but it’s been so long since I saw one of these.
I believe that drawing can become a revitalizing activity. I could find joy and hope in it again. That is, at the expense of the person that was killed. I continue to be just resigned, for there is still not much more to do after an endless time already suffering. How many people could have already died by coming inside, needless to say?

There is not much inspiration in a cursed, millenary blue-bricked dungeon, humbly. I did revive the casting moment of the necromancer’s spell, between many other things. They’ve been good practice.

I am most definitely not drawing anything found inside the core chambers, though. There is nothing good to see from the place where the dark sorcerers have come from.

In addition, the corpse of the visitor is now gone too. /








My weapon now my only companion;
how futile this saddening God’s neglect,
of being trapped with my comrade of endless adventures,
that from affection none I can expect,
when all else has left, and life has me abandoned.
.
Its incredible power now bears no use
here, in the depths where I am kept recluse.
Since there is nothing to defend or stand for,
my hammer; my ally, serves me not anymore.

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